


A Troubled Homecoming

by flowersheep



Series: Eye of the Phoenix AU [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 19:50:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20711576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersheep/pseuds/flowersheep
Summary: Arthur's return following the success of his quest to prove himself a worthy future king isn't nearly as happy as he thought it would be. Not with everything he learned recently still weighing heavy on his mind.





	A Troubled Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> still not a full sequel, but hey! another fic for this AU! this time about Arthur!
> 
> the sequel is still being slowly worked on, by the way. if nothing else, I can guarantee it'll be posted before I get old and die.

The streets were lined with people cheering and waving ribbons and throwing flowers as Arthur walked them. His pace was slow and, on account of years of practice, regal despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to face plant on the ground and not get up for the next ten years. His left hand was clenched tightly around the trident while the right kept twitching at his side in aborted attempts to reach up and rest over the place where the pendant was hidden under his armor and tunic. He felt giddy, like one of those young maidens in Morgana's romance novels. Not that he'd ever read one of them

Arthur frowned. Thinking of Morgana erased any good cheer he felt at returning home. Merlin had never actually told him what he'd done with the Eye of the Phoenix, but Arthur supposed that was for the best. That thing had nearly killed him after all. A part of him was still clinging to the idea that it had been an accident, that Morgana hadn't known what she was doing when she bought it in the market. But she was also noticeably absent from the greeting party. Even his father had come out to welcome him home. In fact, it was a solid hour after his return, only when he went in search of her himself, that Arthur finally ran into her.

"Arthur!" Morgana exclaimed, looking entirely caught off guard. "You’ve returned!"

"Don't sound so surprised Morgana," Arthur said, going for a teasing tone and trying to ignore the fact that Morgana did not look in the least happy to see him. "Don't tell me you really expected me to fail."

"Well, of course I did. It is you after all." It lacked the usual punch that came with Morgana's insults, more said as a distraction as her eyes darted around and her fingers absently toyed with the sleeves of her dress. A moment later she drew in a breath and her mannerisms smoothed out. She smiled. "I'm glad you're home safe," she said. The sincerity fell a little short, but Arthur could see why they were all fooled. He returned the smile.

"It's good to see you Morgana." He tried to inject as much warmth and sincerity as he could into the words, tried to tell her with his eyes that he knew something was going on and he was here for her, but Morgana simply brushed past him, walking briskly down the corridor and out of sight. He stared after her.

"_What are you going to do?_" Merlin had asked him on their walk to the border. "_About this person who gave you the Eye of the Phoenix? You know who it is, don't you._"

"_I don't know,_" Arthur had admitted. "_Morgana and I have always argued, sure, but trying to kill me?_"

"_We all change as we get older._"

"_Morgana's like my sister though._"

"_I'm sorry. So, what are you gonna do about it?_"

"_I suppose... I suppose I should talk to her, shouldn't I._"

Easier said than done, Arthur thought later as he sat in his room, sipping wine. He'd had every intention of getting drunk and brooding until he passed out on his bed, but the mood to do so had left him the minute the wine had been delivered to his room. He should talk to her. It was probably lonely, having magic in Camelot. If Morgana did indeed have magic and Merlin seemed convinced she must, based on the amulet. Arthur didn't want to believe it. If he believed it, he had to deal with it, and in Camelot that was no easy task. Not when Uther was planning a speech for the welcome home feast the following evening about how the Fisher King's trident would stand in Camelot as a symbol of the horrific downfall that awaited all those who used magic. A kingdom ruled by magic now in ruins, overrun by wild beasts and other horrors.

"_That's not how it happened at all,_" Merlin had said, snorting with annoyed amusement. "_The Fisher King was wounded in battle, everyone knows that. Elmet was at war, the Fisher King led his army into battle, and was unlucky enough to be mortally wounded. Magic had nothing to do with it._" Though there'd been a strange look about him that Arthur hadn't quite been able to catch because at that moment Merlin had said something about scouting ahead and sped up his pace.

A knock on the door disturbed Arthur's far too sober brooding. "Enter," he called. There was a pause, then the door opened tentatively. Arthur looked over and saw Gwen hesitantly sliding into the room. She closed the door and leaned back against it. "Guinevere. What can I do for you?" Gwen worried her lip.

"I need to speak with you about something," Gwen said carefully. Arthur gestured for her to continue. "It's about... about..." Gwen took a deep, bracing breath. "It's about Morgana." Arthur stilled. Deliberately, he set his goblet down on the table and sat up straighter.

"About her magic?" he guessed. Gwen's eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. A moment later she managed to compose herself a bit.

"Yes. Yes, it's about... about her... magic." Gwen wrapped her arms around herself. "Something's been different about her, ever since she returned. I'm not sure she means us well anymore." It pained Gwen to say it. Arthur knew that she had always been close with Morgana, ever since she'd been assigned as her maidservant.

"I think you may be right, Gwen," Arthur said, tired. "Have you told anyone else?"

"I tried to tell Gaius," Gwen said. "I mean, I did tell him, but he told me not to worry about it. I thought maybe he might talk to her, since he used to practice magic as well, but he hasn't. Are you going to talk to her?" Arthur hesitated. Gwen frowned. "Arthur, are you going to talk to Morgana about this?"

"I don't think she'd listen to me," he said. Gwen's frown deepened. "She tried to kill me Gwen. On the quest. She gave me a magical artifact that was draining the life out of me. If not for-" He stopped himself. It would not do to reveal the existence of Merlin and his people. Arthur would not be responsible for a second war on them, especially not after everything Merlin had done for him.

"If not for what?" Gwen pressed. When Arthur shook his head she said, "I swear I won't tell a soul, Arthur. Whatever it is, I'll take it to my grave." Arthur looked at her earnest expression and caved. He needed to talk to someone about it, needed someone else to know. He would keep the details vague though, just in case.

When he was done with his tale Gwen sat heavily in a chair at the table. “There’s a whole kingdom of people out there with magic,” she stated.

“Well, not a whole kingdom,” Arthur said. “Thanks to- my father.” He swallowed. It still left a bitter taste in his mouth to admit that his father had committed grievous wrongs against entire communities of people because he hadn’t been able to handle his grief. But on the journey home he’d passed through a village all gathered around shouting angrily in the village square. A girl had been seen by her neighbor using magic to light a fire in her home. As he’d stood there, listening to the accusation and remembering the beautiful flash of gold in Merlin’s eyes as a torch flared to life in the dark, villagers had picked up stones and started hurling them at the girl. He should have stepped in. He should have intervened. He was the prince, he had the authority to stop what was happening. But he’d remained frozen to the spot, thinking only of how this was not only legal, but encouraged under Camelot’s current laws. And what would the king think if he got word of his son intervening?

“Do you think they could help Morgana?” Gwen asked. “These people you stayed with?”

Athur hesitated. “Perhaps. They don’t seem very friendly to outsiders. Besides, I swore I wouldn’t tell a soul about that place, Gwen. It’s bad enough that I’ve told you. If my father even suspects that the dragonlords survived he will try to finish the job. I can’t do that to them. I can't do that to Merlin.”

“I suppose you're right,” Gwen said slowly, doubtfully. Arthur didn’t blame her. She loved Morgana and wanted to help her. “Well then what _do_ we do?” Arthur sighed through his nose, frowning down into his cup.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I’ll think of something, Gwen, I promise. For now, just keep this between us.” It was clearly not the answer Gwen was hoping for, but she nodded, curtsied, and left him to himself. Arthur took a long drink of wine. Things had to change in Camelot, that was clear. How he was supposed to bring about that change, especially with his father still king, Arthur didn’t know. He reached up and pulled Merlin’s pendant out from beneath his tunic, looking at it in the firelight before encasing it in his hand. For Merlin, he at least had to try.


End file.
